


Everyday Hero

by firedew



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cute Kids, Ducks, F/M, Family, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-War, Romance, Walks In The Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedew/pseuds/firedew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An autumn outing in the park leads to something unexpected. One-shot. Mostly fluff, implied character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyday Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through my works and realized this little fic never made it over here. This is one of my earliest fics (so excuse the mistakes), but it's special to me because it was inspired by my husband. He's my hero.
> 
> Necessary disclaimer: I do not own Stargate. I do this for fun, not profit.

The piercing squeal of her three-year-old son chasing after her five-year-old daughter, went straight through Teyla's ears like a siren. With her arms full of folded clothing, she closed her eyes and waited for her hearing to return to normal. The overly excited pair ran past her with all the care of little children, knocking into her sides and continuing on as though nothing had happened.

Teyla sighed.

"I believe I have asked that you two refrain from running inside," she said. "There is simply not enough room."

Actually, as far as hotel rooms went, it was quite a large one. Having been in several since the days when Atlantis had been on Earth, then on subsequent trips like this one after the city's return to Pegasus, Teyla had developed a decent basis for comparison. Despite its spaciousness, however, it was still not enough to contain her children's boundless energy.

Undeterred from their game, Teyla raised her voice above the din to get their attention. "Charin! Ronon!"  
The children halted in their tracks, feeling her frustration not only in her tone, but reflecting in their minds as well. It wasn't often that she yelled at them, but she was trying to do several things at once and even she lost her patience every once in a while. Torren, her eldest, who had been quietly watching television from one of the beds, also looked to his mother. Teyla set down the folded clothes she had been holding onto her bed.

"Have you gathered all your dirty clothing and put them in the laundry bag as I asked?" she addressed all three.

In answer, she received two cowed nods and a "Yes, mother" from Torren.

"Good. Now, what I would like is if you three could sit down and play  _quietly,_  while I finish getting our suitcases packed," Teyla said, thinking that she had yet to remove everyone's toothbrushes and toothpaste from the bathroom. Another thing that needed to be done before they checked out.

Charin, absentmindedly played with her long braid and obediently sat down on the bed next to her big brother. Ronon appeared like he would do the same, but he hesitated. With his index finger in his mouth as he spoke and fidgety feet, he told her in a restrained whine, "Mommy, I'm hungry..."

She gazed down at the boy. The spitting image of his father and with the spirit of his namesake, Ronon had already proven to be the greatest challenge of all her children and at the same time, the greatest gift. Born just after the conflict with the Wraith had come to a close, he had come at a time when they desperately needed something to celebrate. They had won the war, but at a heavy price.

Teyla blinked away the memories that still, to this day, brought tears to her eyes. "Your father will return at any time with our breakfast."

With a sad, but resigned face, little Ronon joined his brother and sister on the bed.

"Torren," she said in a more subdued manner, her frustration subsiding, "I would appreciate it if you could watch them. I really must get this finished."

He consented readily. He huddled with his younger siblings and they seemed to come to an agreement to watch cartoons. Knowing he could feel her emotions just as well as the other children, Teyla projected a sense of gratitude toward Torren for his willingness to help. His dark eyes settled on her and he smiled. He was such a good boy.

With the children occupied for the moment, Teyla returned to her task. She continued removing their belongings from the hotel room and carefully packing them in their suitcases. Some of the souvenirs they had bought proved to be tricky, but she eventually found room for everything. She periodically checked the time from the clock on the bedside table. They still had plenty of time. Check-out wasn't for a few more hours and their return flight to Colorado Springs wasn't for a few hours after that. In good shape and a little ahead of schedule, Teyla allowed herself to relax and shake the harried feelings that were driving her.

Checking one last time to see that all her children were dressed, wearing their shoes and socks, and their jackets were hanging where they were supposed to be, she zipped up the bags for the final time this trip and set them near the door. With that load off of her mind, Teyla sat on the bed, where Ronon immediately crawled into her lap, and watched the television with them. She didn't really enjoy the show as the children did. The story wasn't to her taste and she didn't understand how it was that air-breathing squirrel had come to live underwater with a sponge and a starfish, but it didn't matter. She wasn't really watching it, anyway. She observed her children laughing and she couldn't help but smile along with them.

It wasn't long before Teyla heard the knob turn at the door. Ronon jumped down, screaming "Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!" the whole way toward the noise.

John came in carry a box of doughnuts in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other. With his father's hands full, Ronon was forced to make a contingency plan. He threw his arms enthusiastically around John's leg and clung on tight.

"Whoa, pal! Take it easy!" John said with a smile. Unable to move anymore, Teyla decided it was time to assist her husband. With a quick kiss to his full lips, she took the food from his hands and set it on the table. Freed up, John picked up his son and turned to close the door behind him. "Were you good for Mommy while I was gone?"

"Yes..."

"Teyla?" John asked her for confirmation.

Trying to be diplomatic, Teyla merely raised her eyebrows.

"Oh...sorry, sweetie," John offered. "I didn't think I'd be gone that long."

"It is alright, John."

Teyla reached into the bag and pulled out the package of paper plates, while John took the job of filling the paper Dixie cups with orange juice. Teyla began passing out a doughnut to each plate, while giving John a disapproving glance.

"What?"

"Doughnuts?" she asked. Aside from their lack of proper nutrition, Teyla didn't relish the idea of loading up their already wound up children with sugar.

John took one from the box for himself and took a big bite from it. With an impish grin and a full cheek, he muffled, "Breakfast of champions."

The kids laughed at their father's antics. Even in her current mood, Teyla was forced to stifle a grin. John had always been able to make her laugh. In all these years and with everything they'd come through, nothing had ever changed that.

Teyla waved to them, indicating to them to come and eat. Reaching over her hungry children and under John's mischievous scrutiny, she stole one for herself.

"That's what I thought," he put in.

She shook her head at him, exasperated but loving the obvious affection behind the teasing. "They are delicious, John," she granted, but followed it up with a reminder. "We are going to be putting these children on a plane soon and they are already quite..."

John closed the short distance and planted a kiss on his wife's lips. Teyla leaned into it. She tasted the sugar on him and considered licking it off when she remembered that there were six prying eyes on them.

"Don't worry," John said once she released him. Then, he spoke the words that had gotten them into trouble on so many occasions. "I have a plan."

 

* * *

 

"Are you certain this is wise, John? It appears it may rain soon," Teyla commented. Looking up at gray gloom overhead, it didn't seem to be the best weather for a trip to the park.

"It'll be fine," he assured her as they watched Torren, Charin, and Ronon attack the playground equipment with gusto. "They'll get a chance to run around for a while and if it rains...they'll get wet. It won't hurt 'em."

It was autumn on Earth. The trees all around the large park were turning an array of reds, oranges, and yellows, creating a tapestry of color dotting the landscape around them. The month of November, the weather had taken turn toward being chilly, but it hadn't yet reached the point where the temperature was uncomfortable. So long as they kept moving, which they seemed intent on doing, Teyla supposed the children would be alright in their jackets. John was called to assist Charin in her effort to cross the monkey bars, so after zipping up her own coat, Teyla took a quick stroll around.

She walked along the pathways built into grassy expanse. Teyla marveled at the well-tended grounds. There were flowerbeds, that were becoming dormant with the changing season, but they held no less beauty for her. She past by a small pond occupied by several families of ducks and a swing unlike any she had seen before. It was massive and set on several branches extending from a central wooden pole that those who rode would swing around. Before they left, she thought she should bring the children here. They had been on numerous trips in the puddlejumpers and John had even talked Col. Caldwell into letting him borrow an F-302 once, for an afternoon adventure with Torren. All impressive crafts, but on such a large swinging apparatus, Teyla thought they may get a small taste of what it was to fly as a bird would, free and unhindered by technology.

A short, brisk walk later, Teyla found herself circling back around toward the playground where John was helping the children expend their energy. His black coat accentuated the features that she found captivating. His eyes, the enchanting smile, the hair that he had long ago given up trying to tame. It also helped to keep hidden the newer features about himself that he wasn't so proud of, but Teyla admired as much if not more than his natural ones. John's body bore the markers of a hard-fought victory. Three years later, he still grew shy and uncertain when, during their stolen, intimate moments, she would let her fingers linger over them, touching them gently. To him, the scars only carried memories that he often fought to keep boxed in and buried. To her, in time, they had become a part of him, the man she loved. They were a symbol of the hero he was to so many, except perhaps to himself. He had never seen himself that way. He didn't want to be seen that way.

When she reached her family, Teyla took John's hand.

"Did you find anything interesting?" he asked.

"Indeed, I did," she replied.

"Worth a look? 'Cause, I gotta tell you, they're wearing me out," he confessed. "I think I'm getting a little too old for this parenthood thing."

"I am afraid it is a little too late for that, John. Besides, if you are too old, then what does that make me?"

"Ugh..." he grumbled. "That's not fair. No matter what I say, I'm gonna get in trouble."

She smiled knowingly and suggested, "Perhaps, it would be best if we took the children on a walk, then, and said nothing further about my age or yours."

His hand tightened around hers and he kissed her cheek. "Yes, dear."

 

* * *

 

She had been right about the swing. From the ground, she and John worked together to create the proper momentum of their flight and the children sailed through the air in small seats shaped like harnesses.

As expected, Ronon giggled with glee yelling down at the them, "Mommy! Daddy! I'm so high!"

Torren was what John called a cool customer. A naturally quiet boy, like his biological father Kanaan, he never was overt in expressing his feelings, but from the subtle smile playing at his mouth, Teyla and John could tell he was having fun. Charin, however, was more skeptical of the whole experience. She clung on to the chains at her sides for dear life. To her credit, she didn't utter one complaint. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground and waited for it all to be over.

It wasn't long before they began to feel the beginnings a shower falling from the overcast sky. The droplets weren't yet big enough to even leave a wet spot on the sidewalk, but the family decided it was best to start back toward where they'd parked their rental car before things worsened.

John and Teyla followed the pathway around with their children running ahead of them. Without having to exchange a word, they appreciated the momentary silence. Teyla savored the scent of the wind blowing through. It smelled of rain.

They caught up with the kids at the pond. Attracted and mesmerized by the multicolored birds and the young, yellow ducklings swimming along behind their mothers, they stood still on the rocks surrounding the pool. Teyla and John stopped and allowed them to watch for a few minutes.

"Too bad we don't have any bread," John whispered to her.

"Why?"

"Might've been fun to have the kids feed the ducks."

"I see," Teyla said. She could only assume that it was a tradition on Earth. Something that most children do at one time or another. Whenever they were able to visit, John often tried to do such things with them. She wondered if it was because he felt like he'd spent so much of their childhood away.

She offered, "Next time?"

"Yeah. Next time."

John abruptly ran from her side to catch up to his youngest. He had ventured close to the water's edge in pursuit of a green-headed male who he was determined to pet.

Lifting up his son and tossing him over his shoulders, John advised him. "You need to stay back, pal. That's the daddy bird and daddy's don't like it when people get too close to their kids. They may not have teeth, but trust me, you don't want to mess with them."

"What about you, Daddy?" Ronon's immature voice floated down from above John's head.

Teyla watched John think for a second, not really sure what his son was talking about, then he finally said, "I have teeth."

"Daddies don't bite."

"This one does," John responded, then playfully showed his son's ticklish leg that he meant business, much to the three-year-old's delight.

Directly in front of where Torren and Charin sat, a particular mother and ducklings were swimming peacefully. They circled between the boundary of rocks and a large thatch of marsh grass in the center of the pond. Other families passed by on their way out of the park. Teyla and John exchanged a glance and silently decided it was time to start herding the children further down the pathway.

"Charin, Torren," Teyla softly called. "It is time we moved on."

Charin picked herself up off the rocks and carefully tip-toed over to her. Torren stayed behind for a moment, watching the mother and her ducklings swim off to join the rest of the flock. Save one. One of the ducklings remained behind, just to the side of the grass in the middle of the pond.

With Ronon still astride his shoulders, John came up behind him. "C'mon, TJ. We need to get going."

"Dad, look," Torren pointed.

The lone duckling kept trying to swim in the direction of its mother, but for some reason, it seemed stuck. It would try and try, but something was stopping it.

Teyla had noticed it, too, and joined her boys. "What is wrong, John?"

Her husband squinted, trying to make out whatever it was holding the poor thing back, but with all the cloud cover there just wasn't enough light. In the meantime, the mother had 'handed off' care of the rest of her babies to one of the other females and returned to try and help her increasingly upset baby.

"Do you suppose it is tangled in the grass?" Teyla asked. The baby was trapped in something, that much was obvious with how it was thrashing around.

"I don't think so," John muttered.

"Mommy, what's wrong with that baby ducky?" Charin asked at her side.

"I do not know, sweetheart."

The mother was growing frantic. She would swim in encourage her child to follow her, but try as he might, the little one couldn't. She started to unfurled her wings, flapping desperately and quacking to her fellows, but nothing she tried could help her baby.

"Here. Take him," John said to Teyla. He grasped Ronon in his strong hands and brought him down into Teyla's arms. John quickly removed his shoes and socks, leaving them on the rocks, and began rolling up his pant legs. As his naked toes hit the cold surface of the rocks, John hissed through his teeth and shook his head, but he didn't stop.

Knowing what he had in his mind to do, Teyla softly told him to be careful.

He shook off his black coat and she could see the scars that he tried so hard to keep hidden peeking out around the sleeves of his t-shirt. He tried to keep them covered when he could, even from the children. They were too young to remember the horrors that had gone on. Even Torren, at eight, recalled very little. John and Teyla had worked hard to keep him sheltered from all of that and he didn't want some scars bringing up questions and stirring up old ghosts that had never been laid to rest.

John slowly waded into the chilled waters of the pond. At first, it appeared that the water wasn't very deep, then suddenly Teyla saw him sink nearly up to his chest. He let out an audible gasp as the cold water gripped him. He paused for a long moment to allow his body to acclimate and catch his breath again.

On seeing his approach, the mother duck had retreated to a safe distance. She was still clearly invested in her young, but her fear of John overcame her for a time. Taking enormous care, John enclosed his strong hands around the tiny, terrified baby.

In a hushed voice, Charin asked, "What's daddy doing?"

"He's helping the baby duck," Teyla told her daughter.

"He's helping the baby duck?" Ronon parroted.

"Yes, my son."

John frowned at what he saw. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. Then, he looked around making sure his kids hadn't heard. "Okay...just hang in there...for just one minute, baby."

"What is it, John?" Teyla asked, seeing his upset expression.

"Fishing line," he reported succinctly. "He's tangled up in a mess and he's got a hook in his beak."

That explained why they couldn't quite see what he was bound up in. The clear line wasn't very visible in the low light around them. John took the duckling, who seemed to have accepted the comfort of his cautious grip, and transferred him into one hand, freeing up John's other to search his submerged pockets.

"Oh, crap..." he said. Before Teyla could ask, he said, "I forgot to take out my wallet."

Teyla almost laughed, but it didn't seem the time. Her children's attention was rapt on their father and she didn't want to break the spell. They would deal with John's waterlogged wallet later.

He rummaged around underwater, until he found what he looking for. He produced a utility knife. Getting the blade out with one hand and his teeth proved a bit tricky, but John managed it. He immediately set about cutting the offending wire, freeing the duck from one of his captors.

To John's side, the mother seemed to have mustered her courage and was swimming toward her husband quickly.

"John..." Teyla warned him. "The mother..."

He spun around. Teyla was keenly aware that a mother in defense of her offspring was capable of anything.

"Easy, mom." John talked to her, warily. "I'm just trying to help him out. Just take it easy ..."

Charin spoke to Teyla. "Mommy, what's she doing?"

Trying to keep her children from getting upset and hoping by remaining calm herself, it would somehow diffuse the tense stand-off, Teyla simply explained, "She is checking on her baby, making sure he is alright."

The mother duck didn't move to attack him. She swam around watching intently, but she never got too close. John glanced back at his family on the rocks. "Everything's fine," he offered the kids. "We're just having ... a little chat, that's all."

"Be careful, Daddy," Ronon called to him.

Teyla stole a sidelong look to Torren, who was closely watching John's every move. The mother seemed anxious to have her baby back, but must have decided that John wasn't a threat because she backed off. She continued her concerned movements, but she swam at a safe distance. John quickly put his teeth to his knife again, pulling a pair of wire cutters out of the versatile tool. He brought the baby up close to do the delicate work of removing the hook from it's beak. He was forced to bring the scared little thing right up against his chest to get the proper support and leverage he needed, but soon the hook snapped. John slid his knife back into his pocket and pulled the pieces away.

"Okay, kiddo. I think that's about got it," he said. Pointing the baby in the direction of it's still-circling mother, John brought him down to the water and gently released his fingers. The duckling sped across the surface straight to it's mom.

Teyla met John's eyes and she smiled at him. At her side, her children were stunned.

"Is it all better, now?" Charin asked.

"I believe so."

Ronon jumped up and down as John was wading up toward them again, "Daddy! Daddy! You did it!"

Teyla looked to her silent man, Torren. The dignified glow of pride lit up his eyes and nudged at her mind, showing Teyla his feelings even if he didn't verbalize them. She took in her oldest son. He was growing up so fast.

Soaked and freezing, John fended off a few enthusiastic hugs and begged to head back to the car and get the heater running. The kids ran ahead of them once again. Teyla could hear them babbling excitedly about what their father had just done. Carrying John's dry coat and shoes, she walked beside him. She once again laid eyes on the discolored flesh underneath his shirt. The children had never known him as that man. To them, he was Daddy. He was funny. He was busy, but always available to talk. He read them bedtime stories when he could. He told them to clean their rooms. They never knew the warrior, the friend, the man who had saved countless lives, and had run into a burning building to save just one. They never knew how that loss haunted him. They didn't know that man until today. In a small way, they knew him now.

"You are a hero, John," Teyla said, beaming at him.

"I didn't do anything."

"To your children, it was everything."

 


End file.
